


Relapse

by L_E_D



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fae & Fairies, Horror, Interviews, Other, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-20 08:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22180756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_E_D/pseuds/L_E_D
Summary: PROJECT: Case study 16 - Specimen ZB5TDURATION OF AUDIO FILE: 00:13:45TRANSCRIPTION DATE: 09/01/94____INTERVIEWER: Tell us about the circumstances of your encounter.
Kudos: 1





	Relapse

**PROJECT:** **Case study 16 - Specimen ZB5T**

**DURATION OF AUDIO FILE:** **00:13:45**

**TRANSCRIPTION DATE:** **09/01/94**

**SUBJECT:** **[redacted], hereby referred to as Subject16**

**LOCATION:** **[redacted], United States**

**\---**

**[Begin transcript 00:00:06]**

**INTERVIEWER:** Whenever you’re ready, sir.

**SUBJECT16:** Yeah, alright, okay. [coughing] You’ll have to forgive my memory, it’s been a few decades... I’m not quite sure where to start.

**INTERVIEWER** : Tell us about the circumstances of your encounter.

[silence from 00:00:20 to 00:00:27]

**SUBJECT16** : This is between you and me, right?

**INTERVIEWER** : As per your contract with us, sir. Everything you say here is confidential.

**SUBJECT16** : [coughing] Alright, okay. I-I was a draft dodger. Back then, I would’ve told you I was a uh, conscientious objector, as they liked to put it. Truth is, I did it mostly out of self-preservation. I know my lungs aren’t what they used to be, but even back then they could’ve used some work. I was a weak kid, too, and not just physically. I remember getting all upset at those nature documentaries, with the lions and whatnot. Could barely stand high school biology, if I’m being honest. 

I knew damn well that if they ever shipped me overseas, I’d be dead within a week. Couldn’t lay low at home neither. My old man would’ve shown me the belt ‘til I’d beg him to let me become a soldier. 

So I ran away. I ain’t really proud of it, but I ain’t ashamed either. It’s the reason I’m not sleeping under a rock right now. You see how they treat the vets out there? Ruin their lives, and for what? Uncle Sam doesn’t give a rat’s ass about their sacrifices, their pain, their fucking PTSD, their- [abrupt coughing]

**INTERVIEWER** : Sir? Are you alright?

**SUBJECT16** : [wheezing and coughing]I’m fine, [coughing] I’m fine.

**INTERVIEWER** : Did your encounter occur during your escape from the draft?

**SUBJECT16** : That’s my best guess, yeah.

**INTERVIEWER** : You aren’t certain?

**SUBJECT16** : No, I can’t say that I am.

**INTERVIEWER** : Could you elaborate?

**SUBJECT16** : I know I left the house. Couldn’t have been older than nineteen, with nothing with me but a backpack and enough money for a bus ticket out of town. After that, I’m not- I don’t- [coughing] I can’t tell you exactly what I did, or where I went. I know it couldn’t have been more than a few days, maybe a few weeks if you feel like pushing it, ‘cus the first thing I can remember, really remember, happened with me still carrying that damn bag and wearing the clothes I had on when I left. After that, though… All I know is, when I finally got out, the war was over.

**INTERVIEWER** : Thank you. Please recount the events of your encounter from your earliest memory. 

**SUBJECT16** : Alright, well I, uh- I was hitchhiking down by the highway, few miles from the closest truck stop. No one ever stopped to pick me up. Can’t blame ‘em, probably looked like more trouble than I was worth.

The sun went down, and I started to worry. I considered just going to sleep in a ditch. Everything was too far for me to walk, the temperature kept dropping. Was cloudy, too. Couldn’t see a damn thing.

I kept going for a while, but I knew I’d have to give it up at some point. It was cold enough to turn your toes blue and I was too damn tired to even walk straight. 

Was about two minutes away from passing out when I saw it. Thought I was dreaming it, at first. 

There was a, uh, dirt field next to the road, and a couple yards past that you were into the woodlands. And way back there, way back behind the treeline, I saw some lights. I figured it was a farmhouse or something, that maybe I could squat there for the night. 

**INTERVIEWER** : From here on out, sir, I would greatly appreciate it if you were as descriptive as possible. Every detail is important. I may also interrupt to ask more specific questions about the event. Is that okay with you?

[pause]

**INTERVIEWER** : Great. You may continue.

**SUBJECT16** : Everything was still pretty normal, ‘til I actually got into the woods. There was something about that place- it made me nervous. 

**INTERVIEWER** : Were you not able to identify what was making you uncomfortable?

**SUBJECT16:** Not right away. For a while, I thought it had gotten darker, but that wasn’t right. Was just as blind in as I was out of the woods. It was warmer, though. No wind in the trees. 

Couldn’t have taken long to get to where the light was, but I gotta tell you, I hated every single second of the walk there. It was- I felt guilty, being there. Like I was doing something awful. [coughing] Like I was desecrating a grave or something. By the time I reached the house I felt like I was gonna start crying.

**INTERVIEWER** : This house, it was the source of the light?

**SUBJECT16:** Yeah. Wasn’t all that bright either. Was surprised I could see it from the road. 

**INTERVIEWER** : Could you describe the house?

**SUBJECT16** : Was more like a cottage than a house, I’d say. Not very tall, just the one floor. Was all made of wood, the walls and the roof and whatnot. There was a, uh, a little rock path that went up to the house. The lights were off, inside, ‘cept for the one right behind the front door. You could see it through that lil’ door window. It was the only one still in good shape, all the other windows ‘round the house were busted. Made the place look real creepy. That, and the tiny spiky metal fence on the roof. You know, the kind you see on those old Victorian houses?

**INTERVIEWER** : They had that on a wooden cabin’s roof?

**SUBJECT16** : No, no, the roof was made of that fancy tiling stuff. It’d seen better days, but it was still nice looking.

**INTERVIEWER** : Didn’t you say the roof was made of wood?

[pause]

**SUBJECT16** : That doesn’t sound right. The place was like a haunted house, a mini mansion. Bunch of dead flowers at the foot of the walls, big spider webs on the bars in the windows, the whole shebang. Those, the windows, they were the grossest thing ‘bout it, in my opinion. There were these big water stains around ‘em, like stuff was leaking from the inside.

**INTERVIEWER** : Were the walls rotting?

**SUBJECT16** : Couldn’t have, brick-

[silence from 00:06:18 to 00:06:30]

**INTERVIEWER** : Sir?

**SUBJECT16** : [gasp][coughing] Sorry, what was I saying?

**INTERVIEWER** : You were describing the brick walls.

**SUBJECT16** : Right, right. Gross stuff, black soot like someone was setting fires under the windows. 

**INTERVIEWER** : As you took in the house, did that feeling of unease dissipate? 

**SUBJECT16** : It got worse. I was tired, breathing like a horse, but I- I- it was so damn quiet. I had gone the whole way in total silence, and I only picked up on it right then and there. 

You know how there’s noise in a forest? Stuff like birds and leaves and stuff? Well I couldn’t hear a damn thing. Couldn’t even pick up on my heartbeat. I tried speaking and nothing came out. 

**INTERVIEWER** : What did you do?

**SUBJECT16** : I panicked! I figured I’d gone deaf or something. Did the only thing I could do, really, and I knocked on the door. Except… I heard it.

[sound of someone knocking twice on the table]

**SUBJECT16** : With everything else so calm it sounded like a damn gunshot. Made my ears ring. And then all the noise came right back, all in one go. It was so much, it was just regular nature sounds, but it was so _much_. And then- then- [coughing]

**INTERVIEWER** : Sir?

**SUBJECT16** : Someone answered the door. Was a woman, this nice looking lady. She had long brown hair and she was wearing clothes you’d see on a baker, with the frilly apron and stuff. Looked like she was supposed to be in a french village a hundred years ago. 

**INTERVIEWER** : Can you tell me more about what this woman looked like? The color of her eyes, maybe? Any features that stood out to you?

**SUBJECT16** : She looked like… Like she was happy to see me. The way I imagine moms look at their kids when they come home from a long trip. Like she knew I was on my way. Like she was relieved I was finally back. 

**INTERVIEWER** : But this was your first time there, and you’d never seen this woman before, correct?

[silence from 00:08:40 to 00:08:46]

**SUBJECT16** : She was happy I was finally back, invited me inside. Said I looked hungry.

**INTERVIEWER** : Could you describe what she sounded like?

**SUBJECT16** : Calm. Warm. Everything there was warm. She made me sit at the kitchen table. Gave me tea and noodle soup. 

**INTERVIEWER** : Did she feed you anything else?

**SUBJECT16** : No. She just sat next to me. After a while, she started petting my hair. She was humming something. Can’t remember how it goes, but it sounded nice. 

**INTERVIEWER** : Could you describe the interior of the house?

**SUBJECT16** : Was basically just a kitchen, with a tiny set of stairs that went up to the second floor. It was all made of wood, the walls and the roof and whatnot [coughing]. There was soup cooking in the fireplace, and candles everywhere. Oh, and some big glass lantern was hanging from the ceiling. I couldn’t see inside it, was too bright. 

Was a bunch of jars on the shelves and stuff. Couldn’t tell you what was in ‘em.

Mostly, though, it was flowers. So many, and just- everywhere. On the roof beams and on all the cabinets and between the floorboards. You could even see some growing outside through the windows. If I closed my eyes, I could see them moving.

**INTERVIEWER** : The woman, she fed you?

**SUBJECT16** : Yeah.

**INTERVIEWER** : What happened next?

[weak rattling sounds]

**INTERVIEWER** : Sir?

**SUBJECT16** : Nothing, really, I just drank my tea, ate my soup. 

**INTERVIEWER** : Did the woman do anything else?

**SUBJECT16** : I- uh, I just drank-

**INTERVIEWER** : The woman, sir. What did the woman do?

**SUBJECT16** : S-she petted my hair. She gave me tea, and I drank it, and she petted my hair. 

**INTERVIEWER** : And afterwards?

[rattling continues]

**SUBJECT16** : She s-sang to me. And- and my- [coughing]

**INTERVIEWER** : The singing. What did it sound like?

**SUBJECT16** : I-I don’t know. I couldn’t hear it well. The rain- the rain was too loud for me to hear it well.

**INTERVIEWER** : It was raining? 

**SUBJECT16** : I don’t know! Wasn’t it? It must have been! It was so loud- I couldn’t hear her s-sing…

**INTERVIEWER** : The sound. It was loud. What was it? 

**SUBJECT16** : [sob] I don’t know! I don’t- the flowers were moving when I closed my eyes, and I was so tired. It’s cold out there and it’s warm in here and I can’t hear her sing, why can’t I he- [coughing]

[rattling continues]

**SUBJECT16** : No, no, no! [coughing] It’s moving, it’s so loud-

**INTERVIEWER** : Sir!

[rattling stops]

**INTERVIEWER** : Focus on the sound. What was that sound?

[pause]

**SUBJECT16** :[exhale] She-she kept telling me to close my eyes, but I knew- I knew the noise was from the lantern. Was so loud. It was swinging back and forth and back, and the flowers- they kept moving, getting bigger. Could see ‘em, but just ‘cus of the lantern. Moving back and forth. Was so hard to see… 

**INTERVIEWER** : Do you know why it was moving?

**SUBJECT16** : No no, there was- something inside, trying to get out. It was buzzing and hitting the glass, over and over and over-

[silence from 00:12:26 to 00:12:35]

**SUBJECT16** : Mmmh, the rain keeps hitting the window- 

**INTERVIEWER** : Sir, focus! The knocks are coming from the lantern.

[rattling begins again]

**SUBJECT16** : I don’t- I don’t want to hear it! Just let her sing, please, please… [loud coughing]

[rattling stops]

**SUBJECT16** : I- I-

**INTERVIEWER** : The buzzing! What was the buzzing?

**SUBJECT16** : The lantern fell! It fucking broke into a million pieces! Opened my eyes and- [sob] It was so dark, so cold. The windows were broken and the flowers were just piles of dust and I could still feel her fingers in my hair… [coughing] I ran away. I shot through the door like a bullet and never looked back!

[pause]

**SUBJECT16** : I can still see her sometimes. When I’m trying to fall asleep, I can hear her voice, feel her fingers in my hair, I can- [coughing] 

[sobbing] [rattling returns]

**SUBJECT16** : You can’t let me leave, you hear me? You can’t! I lost ten years in there and I know I’ll go back, I know I’ll go back, please…

**INTERVIEWER** : Sir-

[rattling stops]

**INTERVIEWER** : SIR!

**[end of recording 00:13:45]**

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Bee, for actually reading my crap


End file.
